


14

by cognomen



Series: Cognomen's List of Things that Aren't Reptiles [14]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Consentacles, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tentacles, sex plant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 06:59:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13898751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cognomen/pseuds/cognomen
Summary: February Ficlet Challenge, Day 14. Pairing: Poe Dameron/Tentacles, Prompt: Valentine's Day.So, that had been the day Poe Dameron started owning a sex plant. Apologetically. He had never been all that good with plants, as his father would tell anyone who’d listen, and Poe had expected his negligence would kill this one sooner rather than later.





	14

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MayGlenn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/gifts).



Poe swears it’s not going to be like this every year. This year, it  _ shouldn’t _ be, he has a lovely boyfriend and an amazing girlfriend and he’d like nothing more than to spend lover’s eve with them.

Unfortunately, Rey’s off discovering the secrets she’d uncovered in the Jedi Texts with Chewbacca and the Falcon and Finn is off on a scouting mission to discover a few secondary base options. With a little luck, maybe he’d be back by morning, but it still leaves Poe as alone this lover’s eve as he had been on all of them for the last several years.

Which is to say, not exactly  _ totally _ alone. There was the plant.

Someone had given it to him as a gift—a gag when he was enrolled in basic training, the sort of sem-ridiculous and machismo-stinking gift that was common in the Naval academy. Poe normally laughed along, and then threw these away. Once, he’d gotten a package of economy sized condoms, which he recognized as finger protectors, the kind you put over bacta patches to keep them from getting wet. Once, a tin of mints labeled  _ ‘for after dick use _ ’.

The Corellian Love Creeper seedling had been just another such gag. Except it was alive, and it didn’t quite seem right to toss it in the trash. Poe had debated with himself that it probably was just some poor regular houseplant with gag packaging as he held it over the trash can, when it had uncurled one little leafy vine and wrapped it around his finger as if in entreaty for it’s tiny life.

So, that had been the day Poe Dameron started owning a sex plant. Apologetically. He had never been all that good with plants, as his father would tell anyone who’d listen, and Poe had expected his negligence would kill this one sooner rather than later.

Ten years later, the Creeper is a fully respectable size, and Poe figures it’ll soon be ready for it’s fourth transplant into a bigger pot. Also, it’s trained pretty well, if he does say so himself. Finn and Rey know, but no one else suspects that the potted plant in Poe’s room sustains itself on artificial light, water, and jizz. 

It gets a decent amount of all three. In fact, Poe had made it through a lot of lonely, frustrating years with the plant’s help.

But he’d figure at least for lover’s eve, that was behind him, now that he has not one but  _ two _ significant others. Then again, they’re still at war, so who really knew what to expect on any given day. 

Poe drops his gear when he gets back to his quarters and gets some water for the plant from the sink. It starts to almost tremble as soon as he gets near it. Rey’s explained that it was sensitive in a way to the desires and wants of things around it, but it wasn’t really intelligent. Just attuned to any opportunities for sustenance, a little bit like the less innocuous fly trapper plants. 

“Yeah, I guess it’s that kind of night,” Poe tells it. He tries not to talk to it  _ too _ much, but old habits die hard. “You ready?”

The plant unfolds slowly, easing a few leafless tendrils free of where they normally stay hidden up under the foliage. 

“Guess so,” Poe observes, when they reach out for him, tugging Poe a step or two closer. As it’s gotten bigger, it’s also grown much stronger, and Poe helps it pry his pants off until he’s stepping out of them and the plant tangles around his arms, too, trapping them in the shirt he’s half out of and several supporting, velvet soft loops before it starts to lift and position him.

It’s both strong enough to be irresistible and soft enough with Poe that he trusts he won’t be hurt. These plants were evolved for it, after all. Like the fish that—well, Poe hates to think of parasites as the plant wraps around his cock and pulses. 

Symbiosis, or—something like that, anyway. Poe tilts his head back and thinks of Rey while it pumps his cock and gets him good and hard, then of Finn when another thick tendril, slick with the plant’s natural lubricating secretions, probes behind his balls, back and forth, teasing his ass like Finn does with his tongue.

He can hear his own groans and sighs as the plants bends him, shifts and supports Poe off the ground. It’s almost like the one time he’d convinced Rey to fuck him with her strap on in zero G. The memory shocks through his whole body, and the tendril pushes past his rim with a heave that feeds several inches into Poe in a rush.

He gasps and sighs out, arching his body to let it push deeper. Poe adores his boyfriend and girlfriend, but the plant always seems to be able to reach a little deeper, to pulse at just the right place.

It’s warm and pushes at all the right spots, and before he knows it another tendril is coiled around his cock, sliding slick and firm to help him along. Not that he needs it. It’s good,  _ so _ good as it pumps into him, and Poe tips over the edge, drops off into orgasm and it overtakes his thoughts and blanks his mind to bliss.

When he comes to, or rather slips back into his senses like a comfortable bad, the plant puts him gently back on his feet then withdraws, having left him clean.

“Hey,” Poe says, reaching out to pat the leaves gently as he heads to bed. “Happy lover’s eve.”

What’s one more year like this, anyway?


End file.
